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THE TECHNICIAN WRITES ME

Boule, was a charming woman with sweet and tender eyes; my cousin, Robert Fraenckel, a very intelligent man only a trifle older than I and enthusiastically interested in history, had married Olga Allatini, a beautiful Italian woman who shared my taste for music; a Blin household and a Bessand household rounded out an entertaining little group in which the women were pretty, the men gay and the conversation lively and unconstrained. Soon I was giving up my evening work two or three times a week in order to join them. Since I could not get along without writing, I composed a revue for this group of amateurs and then a comedy. The rehearsals entertained me a great deal. For a young man in love with all women, they provided a proper opportunity for intimacy with indulgent friends. Then we performed the revue for the benefit of charity, and I tasted, on a tiny scale, the joys of successful authorship.
Nevertheless, I retained enough perspective to realize the futility of the kind of life I was now leading and the miserable poverty, not to say blameworthy vulgarity, of the scripts that brought me this small local glory. But in my disenchantment and desperation I took the same sombre pleasure in degrading the noble profession of authorship that women, disappointed in true love, take in throwing themselves into lives of dissoluteness. Only one man during this period understood what was happening to me: that was Alain. Although he had left Rouen he still remained for me, as for so many others, the Master. When I had the opportunity to spend a few days in Paris, which happened rarely enough, I went to see him. He had become professor at the Lycee Condorcet and lived not far from there in the Rue de Provence in a little room fur-, nished with a bed, a divan, a piano and that library of thirty volumes which he considered' necessary and sufficient. Seated beside him on the tattered couch, I felt transported out of this world and free to express myself without reserve. He listened to my angry descriptions of the life in Elbeuf and what I called, with adolescent hyperbole, `my spiritual decadence'.
`Frivolity,' he said, `is a violent state.'
When he was talking about women, Alain would alternate between cynicism and adoration. In this, of course, he resembled his favourite, Stendhal. I have never heard anyone talk better about romantic novels such as Le Lys dans la Vallee or the Chartreuse de Parme. But he used to say too: `Woman's greatest fascination lies in being late or being absent.'

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Boule, was a charming woman with sweet and tender eyes; my cousin, Robert Fraenckel, a very intelligent man only a trifle older than I and enthusiastically interested in history, had married Olga Allatini, a beautiful Italian woman who shared my taste for music; a Blin household and a Bessand household rounded out an entertaining little group in which what is women were pretty, what is men gay and what is conversation lively and unconstrained. Soon I was giving up my evening work two or three times a week in order to join them. Since I could not get along without writing, I composed a revue for this group of amateurs and then a comedy. what is rehearsals entertained me a great deal. For a young man in what time is it with all women, they provided a proper opportunity for intimacy with indulgent friends. Then we performed what is revue for what is benefit of charity, and I tasted, on a tiny scale, what is joys of successful authorship. Nevertheless, I retained enough perspective to realize what is futility of what is kind of life I was now leading and what is miserable poverty, not to say blameworthy vulgarity, of what is scripts that brought me this small local glory. But in my disenchantment and desperation I took what is same sombre pleasure in degrading what is noble profession of authorship that women, disappointed in true love, take in throwing themselves into lives of dissoluteness. Only one man during this period understood what was happening to me: that was Alain. Although he had left Rouen he still remained for me, as for so many others, what is Master. When I had what is opportunity to spend a few days in Paris, which happened rarely enough, I went to see him. He had become professor at what is Lycee Condorcet and lived not far from there in what is Rue de Provence in a little room fur-, nished with a bed, a divan, a piano and that library of thirty volumes which he considered' necessary and sufficient. Seated beside him on what is tattered couch, I felt transported out of this world and free to express myself without reserve. He listened to my angry descriptions of what is life in Elbeuf and what I called, with adolescent hyperbole, `my spiritual decadence'. `Frivolity,' he said, `is a bad state.' When he was talking about women, Alain would alternate between cynicism and adoration. In this, of course, he resembled his favourite, Stendhal. I have never heard anyone talk better about romantic novels such as Le Lys dans la Vallee or what is Chartreuse de Parme. But he used to say too: `Woman's greatest fascination lies in being late or being absent.' where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Call No Man Happy (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 070 where is p align="center" where is strong what is TECHNICIAN WRITES ME where is p align="justify" Boule, was a charming woman with sweet and tender eyes; my cousin, Robert Fraenckel, a very intelligent man only a trifle older than I and enthusiastically interested in history, had married Olga Allatini, a beautiful Italian woman who shared my taste for music; a Blin household and a Bessand household rounded out an entertaining little group in which what is women were pretty, what is men gay and what is conversation lively and unconstrained. Soon I was giving up my evening work two or three times a week in order to join them. Since I could not get along without writing, I composed a revue for this group of amateurs and then a comedy. what is rehearsals entertained me a great deal. For a young man in what time is it with all women, they provided a proper opportunity for intimacy with indulgent friends. Then we performed what is revue for what is benefit of charity, and I tasted, on a tiny scale, what is joys of successful authorship. Nevertheless, I retained enough perspective to realize what is futility of what is kind of life I was now leading and what is miserable poverty, not to say blameworthy vulgarity, of what is scripts that brought me this small local glory. But in my disenchantment and desperation I took what is same sombre pleasure in degrading what is noble profession of authorship that women, disappointed in true love, take in throwing themselves into lives of dissoluteness. Only one man during this period understood what was happening to me: that was Alain. Although he had left Rouen he still remained for me, as for so many others, what is Master. When I had what is opportunity to spend a few days in Paris, which happened rarely enough, I went to see him. He had become professor at what is Lycee Condorcet and lived not far from there in what is Rue de Provence in a little room fur-, nished with a bed, a divan, a piano and that library of thirty volumes which he considered' necessary and sufficient. Seated beside him on what is tattered couch, I felt transported out of this world and free to express myself without reserve. He listened to my angry descriptions of what is life in Elbeuf and what I called, with adolescent hyperbole, `my spiritual decadence'. `Frivolity,' he said, `is a bad state.' When he was talking about women, Alain would alternate between cynicism and adoration. In this, of course, he resembled his favourite, Stendhal. I have never heard anyone talk better about romantic novels such as Le Lys dans la Vallee or what is Chartreuse de Parme. But he used to say too: `Woman's greatest fascination lies in being late or being absent.' where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Call No Man Happy (1943) books

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